Intricacies of an ugly breakup
by Beyond The Mat
Summary: When a long-term relationship between Randy Orton and OC Eve Sharmouta went back, Randy turned to Hunter for help. A breakup could've signaled a breakdown had there not been a bit of outreach. Reviews welcome.
1. Chapter 1

**Published September 2011; This didn't come from the public Beyond The Mat roleplay website. This came from elsewhere; Randy's character with another writer's character were in a long-term relationship. This relationship's beginning can be found in our story "Ladies, Do Not Let RKO Buy You Anything". It ended badly, though. Here's how it went down.**

* * *

><p>Backstory: After a mega-blowout with his girlfriend the night before, Randy had left the house, drunk, after calling Rosa Mendes to pick him up. Rosa had been the "leak" from the Divas' locker room, telling him things that were being said in there about him and Eve Sharmouta. This story picks up the morning after.<p>

* * *

><p>Randy had taken his 'emergency bag' from the Hummer before he left with Rosa last night. While yes, he was drunk, he had the presence of mind to take his bag with him. There was always a bag packed in the Hummer. It served as his carry-on for all flights, with basics in case his luggage got lost, or stolen from as tends to happen from time to time. It stays in the car (rented when on the road, or the Hummer when in the Tampa area) for random gym trips in different cities or just trying new locations. And it gets taken with him when he's knowingly not spending the night at home.<p>

It has a change of casual, gym-type clothes, socks, deodorant, toothbrush, shit like that. He'd set it on Rosa's coffee table when he crashed on her couch, and picked it up when he woke up in the morning. The good thing about $76.99 bottles of Johnny Walker Gold: You didn't have a hangover the next day. It's the cheap shit that does you in. The good stuff normally wears off in your sleep. A quick shower woke him up and he got dressed, and asked Rosa to take him first to the Verizon store (Yes, he had a new phone coming via FedEx but wasn't intending to go home quite yet) and then to the gym.

So the FedEx phone will sit in a drawer until he breaks this one. (And you know this one will get broken, as have all his others.) He paid out of pocket for it, the salesman looking at Randy's record and whistling lowly under his breath. "Shut up and activate the fuckin' thing," Randy almost growled. He should be a Verizon stockholder. At least get some return on his investments.

New phone in his pocket, he had Rosa bring him to the Gold's Gym on West Waters Ave. He would've preferred to go to Powerhouse, since it was a better facility, but he'd quietly been texting Hunter ever since the phone got activated.

**_I need to talk to you. Work out w/me. RKO_**

Hunter had suggested Gold's. Evolution had always preferred Gold's. You always knew what you were getting at Gold's. Even though it's a bit dated, Gold's does the job, but Powerhouse was better. But Hunter suggested it, he was in town, he was making time for Randy...so ok.

Gold's it was.

He offered Rosa gas money and to her credit, she didn't take it. She had also, while Randy slept, taken his wallet and used her hair dryer to dry it out. His credit cards, his cash (surprisingly, the same $ that was in it last night was there now, so she didn't rip him off either), everything was at least dry now. Randy thanked her for use of the couch and got out of the car.

He headed in to the gym. Hunter said to give him about a half hour, so Randy went in and paid for 2 individual sessions. "A friend is meeting me here." Of course he was recognized, and didn't care for the recognition, so he opted to wait outside until Hunter got there. He smoked a cigarette as he leaned on the plate glass exterior of the front windows, watching the traffic go by.

* * *

><p>Hunter had made a couple of phonecalls after he'd gotten dressed and was getting ready to go meet Randy. The phonecalls didn't consist of anything like "Hello" or "how are you", or even "This is Hunter". It was one question, and then, not even a goodbye. These phonecalls were commonplace for quite some time a few years ago.<p>

First was to Dave. "Did Orton reach out to you?" The answer was no.  
>The second was to Ric. He asked the same question. Got the same answer, with the added, "I haven't heard from Randal in quite some time."<p>

Hunter deduced that if Batista and Ric hadn't been contacted, it's likely that Cody and Ted might not exactly be in the know about this, either. Ric was -the- elder, once upon a time. Dave was more of the enforcer, dragging Randy back into toeing the line as needed. Hunter was something of a mentor, keeper of the asylum, and spin doctor. Cody and Ted were now, well, they weren't Randy's subordinates anymore, but more of his confidantes. And yet, Hunter knew that there were certain things Randy wouldn't go to Cody or Ted about, if only because of their younger ages, or the possibility of looking bad in their younger eyes.

Randy knew he couldn't look any worse than he previously had in Hunter's eyes from incidents years past, but those incidents could be safely set aside as long as Randy continued to be somewhat stable and draw money and not be such a fuckup.

Yes, Hunter still spoke to the rest of Evolution on occasion. Even Ric, as risky as that might seem. When it came to certain invisible ties and chains, Hunter still kept those bonds and would call on them when needed in times like this.

It didn't take a genius to know Randy had problems, regardless of how well-packaged his DVD was. Everybody had problems. Maybe it was the featuring of Randy's ex-wife, making her look like his strength, that had been gnawing away at Randy, undermining him. Or maybe it was the featuring of his little girl as prominently. Hunter knew that Tyler was old enough to make the decision to appear, but Alanna had been featured at the choice of her parents. Hunter had more than one little girl, and knew how protective a father could be. So maybe Randy was feeling some sort of conflict, especially given the differences between Sam and Eve.

Hunter was taking in-ring psychology outside the ring to try and figure out if Randy was preparing for a downward spiral. The company couldn't afford it right now. Hunter and Randy had spoken and a new policy was added to the already existing Wellness issues. Hunter had spoken to Eve as well. He thought things had stabilized, but as Randy "needed" to talk to him, knowing Hunter was in town, but not for long, needing to take time out of Hunter's schedule...normally Randy would wait for a show, but obviously time was of the essence here. So he'd agreed and chosen Gold's.

He'd changed in the hotel room and had the driver take him to Gold's. Dropped off at the front entrance, he caught sight of Randy chainsmoking. He was stubbing out one cigarette with the sole of his Nike and inhaling off the fresh one, presumably having lit the new one off the old one.

"That shit's gonna kill you if this business doesn't kill you first," Hunter quipped, and patted Randy on the shoulder to guide him inside the gym.


	2. Chapter 2

**Published September 2011; This didn't come from the public Beyond The Mat roleplay website. This came from elsewhere; Randy's character with another writer's character were in a long-term relationship. This relationship's beginning can be found in our story "Ladies, Do Not Let RKO Buy You Anything". It ended badly, though. Here's how it went down.**

* * *

><p>He felt Hunter's hand on his shoulder. Protectively? Pointing him in the direction in which to go? <em>Now I know where I picked that shit up from. I do that to Cody all the time. Christ. Hunter did, does that to me. Jesus.<em> He flicked the cigarette onto the sidewalk, nearly missing someone walking, not apologizing, and heading in. Randy led Hunter past the desk, as admission was already paid, and ignored the few people who were working out and staring at The Game and The Viper together at this Gold's location.

"NO," he'd barked when this skinny guy..kid..whatever the fuck..came over and asked for an autograph. "You're just gonna sell the fuckin' thing on eBay anyway. Go away."

His jaw clenched when Hunter shot him a glare and called the guy back, and signed first, then instructed Randy to do the same. There was even a picture involved. No, Randy didn't smile in it. Didn't raise an eyebrow either. Just a robot face. He was on the jerkoff's left, Hunter on the right. So there, asshole. You got your picture taken with 2 of WWE's Finest. You look even more pathetic when flanked by us. Douchebag. Go get hit by a truck.

"Sorry," he muttered to Hunter after the guy walked away. "I just...look. I asked to meet with you for a reason. I know you're pressed for time and I really didn't want any losers interrupting."

* * *

><p>Hunter stopped short of saying "It's ok," because it wasn't ok, but the reassurance almost came out. Because inevitably, it was ok. Even though Randy's character was something of a face, he wasn't a clean face. Behavior like that was almost expected in public, and it's not like he hit the guy. Or spit on him. Or shit in the guy's gym bag.<p>

"What did you need to talk about," Hunter asked, as he got into spotter position, motioning to Randy to use the bench as Hunter stood behind it. Over the years, Randy seemed to be able to have conversations of serious issues while working out like this. The controlled breathing seemed to work well when choosing what it was he wanted to say. Whatever it was, Hunter instinctively knew it was important. "We've got about an hour, and it's clear I need to know."

He hovered over the bar, making sure the plates on each end were attached well, so there wouldn't be any accidents. The weight was enough, to get some good reps in, to slightly challenge but not strain Randy. "Go, Champ." He instructed Randy to start the series of lifts. "3 sets, 15 reps. 2 minutes in between."

* * *

><em>Fuck. I gotta go first? Figures. You're gettin' old, Hunter. You used to go first. Unless you're livin' this COO shit and doin' Synthol to keep your definition.<em>

He got on the bench with a wince, feeling a tweak not in his shoulder, but when his back rested against the bench. The tweak was from the wipeout on the hardwood floor last night, when he'd gone flying on the runner rug like it was some Arabian fucking magic carpet and landed hard. His feet positioned on the floor as he prepared to start lifting. He also preferred 10 reps over 15, but Hunter said 15, so fuck it.

He lifted the bar, and made eye contact with Hunter before starting.

And as the bar went down, he started to talk.

When he'd lift it up, back almost into place, under Hunter's spotting, he'd breathe.

When returning it to his chest, he'd talked some more.

Lifting again, breathing.

15 times this was done, each slow descent of the bar to nearly touching his chest, he'd end up spilling quite a bit of what he needed to say.

He wasn't happy. No, it wasn't the job making him unhappy. Of course he loved the job. The company. He's legit bled for this company. No, he's not an ingrate. Hopes that when Tyler's time comes, the Orton name is an asset and not a liability. Is trying to hold it together. No, hasn't talked to Cody or Ted about this. Nor Cowboy. Nor Ric, oh hell no, or Big Dave. No, this was something he really had nobody but Hunter to go to on, and was coming to him more as an advisor and a friend, but not a boss.

The rest period came up and Randy remained flat on the bench. He'd broken a mild sweat, nothing serious, and rather than sit up, continued as if he was on a psychiatrist's couch. No, he'd stopped going to therapy. It wasn't fucking worth it. It was couples shit and he wasn't part of a couple anymore. Eve found out about Layla. That had blindsided Randy.

Hunter told him that it was time for the 2nd set. Randy nodded and the words slowed again as he methodically lifted, lowered, breathed and spoke.

Had she not called him out on Layla..she never was supposed to have known. What hadn't meant anything to him OR Layla, what was supposed to have remained a secret, got out somehow. All the mad respect he'd paid Eve's father...well, it all seemed false at that point. Hunter had daughters. Randy had a daughter. How would any father feel if some dude who'd tapped BOTH his daughters had been respectful to you? Randy would want to kill the fucker. Hunter conceded that point.

So even though the mad respect was legit and sincere, it was all undermined and made fake in feeling once Eve found out what he and Layla had written off as nothing. Because Randy couldn't ever look Joseph Sharmouta in the eyes again.

He admitted he'd basically stopped even talking to Eve after the flyer Hunter put out regarding Wellness. He admitted he'd pointed a gun at her; admitted he was ready to physically put her teeth through her skull last night.

And then stopped talking a moment as his muscles started to really have to work the last 3 reps before resting. Hunter had added weight during the last break and Randy just realized it now, as his mind had been somewhere else. The 40 lb. increment was no joke.

He glanced up and saw the expression on Hunter's face had changed. Fuck. No longer listening, he looked pissed. And here's Randy, vulnerable and on his back on the bench.


	3. Chapter 3

**Published September 2011; This didn't come from the public Beyond The Mat roleplay website. This came from elsewhere; Randy's character with another writer's OC diva character were in a long-term relationship. This relationship's beginning can be found in our story "Ladies, Do Not Let RKO Buy You Anything". It ended badly, though. Here's how it went down.**

* * *

><p>You're damned right Hunter was pissed. This wasn't Candice or Keibler, who were basically on borrowed time when they first signed with the company or even Kelly, who made bank for them, but was stupid.<p>

No. This was a diva that Creative was having issues with how to use, whose ring time had been drying up, but she'd been steadily working on the photo-op side for the company, making bank and not known to be problematic backstage (with the quiet exception of the Wellness Policy, that wasn't common knowledge and Hunter kept it that way. Hunter has no idea Randy told Rosa anything, confirming in fact Eve had smoked the substance in question that was now listed as banned with the company.) This was also a veteran wrestler's sister. Layla was very much wanted by the company to return, and keeping Eve happy might help Layla come back sooner.

This could also be a fucking lawsuit. Not so much against the company, unless Randy pushed and made it a hostile working environment (Rochelle's bag), but she could sign some complaints with the police on Randy if she wanted to right now. We're talking jail time.

Florida was similar to Randy's home state of Missouri in a certain way: It's illegal to display a firearm in an "angry or threatening manner" and good luck to Randy trying to prove, simply by his size and attitude alone, that he's not threatening, even if he hadn't said a word. Cops would likely tend to side with the petite, defenseless-seeming woman. And it's not just -a- firearm; it was common knowledge Randy kept, basically, an arsenal on his property.

"You know better than this, Randy. What the fuck."

* * *

><p>This time Randy saw as Hunter added 2 more 10 lb. plates to the ends. It was after Hunter had asked him what the fuck. Randy waited for the clearance to start the next set of reps before trying to answer.<p>

"I'm numb, bro."

Hunter might remember what that meant.

Numbness. Apathy. Not giving a fuck. Not having any fucks to give anymore. Not caring.

Of course he cared about his children. And the company. And the dog. Hell, both dogs if you consider Luke, who he doesn't see much but hand-selected for Alanna. And Sam. And his parents. And his brother. Even with their fucked-up relationship, he'd -still- take a bullet for the couch-shitting Cowboy.

Cowboy would always have a psychological hold on Randy that Randy would never shake. Same goes for certain people in Randy's life.

Like Hunter.

Which was why Randy was entrusting all of this -to- Hunter.

Vince had a hold on Randy but knew a few things there:

1. Tell Vince this shit and watch the man have a fucking stroke...No. Vince was too old for this.

2. Tell Vince this shit and watch, rather than someone closer to you like Hunter, who you can talk to, try to make sense of it...you get a sense of anger and disappointment out of the man who was like your second father. Yeah, that's one way to end up with a coke problem again. Fucking up like that would set Randy back an easy 5-7 years.

3. Tell Vince this shit and end up suspended and all over the dirt sheets. The lawyers would find a loophole and put Randy out of work. And he'd be living the life Randy was just warning Cody about last night. It would be Japan. Tyler would end up going back to live with the Spenos. Or end up running away. Or something bad. Randy wouldn't see his daughter at all. And he'd go bankrupt like Cowboy had twice.

Randy was struggling through this set of reps and his words came slower but they were more well-chosen. He was more concise. Less wordy.

"I can't do this anymore."

The bar was shaking and Hunter had to assist on the 8th rep. The bar was set back on the 10th as Randy almost dropped it on his chest. He'd broken into a profuse sweat that was running into his eyes.

"I can't go back there again."

Back into that place within himself. Where everything is numb, he doesn't feel shit, he doesn't care. He has all his assets together. All his ducks in a row.

He's talked about it with all of those close to him.  
>He's made provisions to care for them.<br>The kids each have property and in-trust bank accounts and CDs to make sure they're taken care of.  
>Guardian's named for Tyler..doesn't mean Tyler would listen if Randy took himself out.<p>

But Randy knows his warning signs.

He fears that he's done irreparable damage to his heart and that an enlargement will kill him before he's 40, like many other wrestlers. If not 40, than 50.

The physicals show so far that he's so far, so good. Some damage but nothing that prevents him from working.

Hell, Roddy Piper was working with a broken neck until the past week.

But he has everything set up that -if- something happened to him, things would go as smoothly as possible for his friends and loved ones.

Even Eve, in death or breakup, gets a piece of the estate, in the form of the 'investment' property both were supposed to pay for, but Randy bought and put her name on as well. She'd dipped into her account and his to furnish it, but the hundreds of thousands that it cost ($300K and change) had been cash. Randy's cash. To provide for her in case shit didn't work out.

Maybe he knew from the start that it wasn't meant to last. You can't go from fucking someone in your car in the garage on the sly, while seeing other people, while trying to reunite with your ex, to stealing her away from one of your Evolution stablemates, to wondering if she was screwing one of your Legacy stablemates, to resenting her for not being more of a motherly figure to your kids...

...to watching her change from what attracted you in the first place.

She'd had a spark of life in her eyes that had attracted him way back when.

Randy knew it was him, his influence, his actions, maybe even his cruelty that snuffed that spark out.

Her eyes were dull. Her in-ring had dwindled. Maybe he'd held her back. He'd tried to knock her up, actually, to get her out of the ring, and that hadn't worked. He'd found an empty pack of birth control pills in the trash he took out once, after she'd told him she'd gone off the pill and was equally trying to conceive.

She was smarter than he was. While that baby might've set her financially for life, that same baby would've had them entwined for life. No, not just 18 years. Because when that baby has babies of their own, that's both your bloodlines tied into future generations.

But if she was wise, she had the condo and would be leaving with under half a million dollars worth of shit. The condo, its contents, the gifts he'd given her, the clothes he'd bought. She'd lived rent-free for the time under his roof, and she'd been leasing the place she owned in Miami to some friend, so she'd been making money there as well.

Eve should have been able to sock some serious coin away during this relationship, so she'd be leaving a winner regardless.

"I'm not asking you to transfer her brand. I'm not asking to go back to Raw, either. I just don't know what the fuck to do."

He sat up and took the towel Hunter offered. "If she never found out about Layla, maybe we could've worked everything out. But it's too far gone. I just don't give a fuck anymore."


	4. Chapter 4

**Published September 2011; This didn't come from the public Beyond The Mat roleplay website. This came from elsewhere; Randy's character with another writer's OC diva character were in a long-term relationship. This relationship's beginning can be found in our story "Ladies, Do Not Let RKO Buy You Anything". It ended badly, though. Here's how it went down.**

* * *

><p>Hunter knew numbness. He'd gone through bouts of it with Stephanie and had some very secret flings on the side to quell the boredom. Well, yes, boredom more than numbness, because Hunter always did feel -something- for Steph.<p>

Not just because she held the keys to the kingdom and held his balls in her purse, either. Because he did genuinely want to be with her as they grew old together.

Steph wasn't toxic to him. He wasn't toxic to Steph. They worked well together. Hell, this man who just got the bar lifted from Hunter spotting him knew how close Hunter and Steph were...if Hunter wasn't secure with Steph, or vice versa, would either have green-lighted the script that had Hunter bound to the ringpost while Randy taunted him and kissed her?

But he was picking up on a toxicity Randy had. Maybe not completely toward Eve, but the known toxicity on Randy himself. When he'd married Sam, the whole company noticed a calming influence. Not completely changed, but he'd become easier to deal with for awhile. Then when they broke up, Randy went somewhat batshit again. When Randy got custody of Tyler, there had only been a few incidents of bad behavior (Hunter knew Randy had swung toward Melina that one time, denting the bank of lockers, but he also knew if Randy had wanted to connect, he would've.)

He knew Randy wasn't one to give in to hitting women either..let's not count Keibler or Moolah or Steph being RKO'ed..that was scripted. Even the 80 year old woman taking the bump knew Randy wasn't inherently abusive towards women..Or had he become that way? Hunter couldn't know for sure. Everybody backstage pretty much knew that Cowboy Bob Orton had been a nasty drunk in Randy's youth and Randy had made mention of "seeing shit I don't ever want my kids to see", in the past.

Maybe that's a genetic thing? Emotionally abusive, sure. Randy emotionally abused people in general. Anybody who can scream at someone else on live TV that they're "STUPID! STUPID!" lacks tact. He might be brilliant as a Superstar, but the man was seriously flawed.

"If it's that bad, Randy, let her go, if she hasn't gone already. I'll make sure that the booking keeps your matches as far apart on the cards as possible. I'll make sure that you're not scheduled for signings together. But you've got to manage your off-days and work through this. I also want you to go back to the doctor."

The doctor being the company shrink. He expected Randy to protest.

* * *

><p>Damn good thing a protest was expected because a protest was given. Randy got up a bit unsteadily from the bench, a result of the exertion of the reps he couldn't finish. Randy calculated the weights...310? The fuck, Hunter? The max Randy could usually safely bench press was 270. ARE YOU TRYING TO POP THE SHOULDERS? And the DOCTOR? What, to go live at the anger management thing again and split the cost with Vince?<p>

Everything else Hunter had said hadn't gotten a protest. It was the doctor thing. "There's NOTHING wrong with me, Hunter!" Randy said through clenched teeth. The eye tic in his left eye and the trembling in his entire body said otherwise.

"If you're ORDERING me to go then I guess I don't have a choice..but there. Is. Nothing. WRONG. With. Me. I just know when I'm happy, when I'm not."

* * *

><p>Hunter curled his finger for Randy to follow him to the locker room. There were still a handful of people around and Randy's voice, although his lips barely moved, was carrying a bit, attracting some attention.<p>

"C'mere, Randy."

Hunter even held the locker room door open for Randy, before he pretty much grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the wall once inside, with the door shut and none witnessing what Hunter was about to say.

"The last time you 'weren't happy', you tried to kill yourself. What, you think I didn't know? You sold off all your stock. We -see- your portfolio. I SAW the transfer. David Fleihr, Randy? Ring a bell? Stomach being pumped in some little hospital in the middle of nowhere? With Ric?"

It was Hunter's turn to be pissed. Very much like Randy would be with Ted or Cody should the shoe be on the other foot. Randy was the equivalent to Hunter, what Cody was to Randy.

"IF you EVER," Hunter said, slamming Randy into the locker bank a second time, this time with a harsh shove to the shoulders, two-handed, "Try that shit again, I'll fuckin' kill you myself."

Cue to the Viper now looking like a deer caught in headlights.

* * *

><p>Understanding what Hunter said, punctuated with the physicality, seemed to take Randy through some of the stages of grief in a lightning-fast process:<p>

Denial.  
>Anger.<br>Bargaining.

He'd been quiet. "I DID NOT! Oh my GOD, what the FUCK, I bought Ric off! Look..that won't happen anymore. That was a long time ago! Hunter, you KNOW me, man.."

Depression.

"Holy shit." The numbness he'd been feeling had lifted and whether it was Hunter fucking him up slightly or just emotion, he felt like he'd been hit between the eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he stood there, his mind racing.

Acceptance.

"Everything I touch, I turn to shit."

With that, he broke. Thank God nobody else was witnessing this.

* * *

>Fuck.<p>It was like he was having a flashback at this moment. Except he was in Randy's spot and Kevin Nash was in Hunter's.<p>

Only those closest and in this certain position in one's life-the older brother from another mother? The protector of a protector?-could witness such a thing and take care of it simultaneously. Hunter had had some similar moments, although few and far between, and he was never one with as many demons as Randy. We all have demons, but Randy has more than his fair share. The man needed help.

Hunter's own eyes, which had grown steadily more creased since Randy Orton joined this company and added both cash to the coffers and stress to the staff, required a pinch to the bridge of his own nose for a second.

"It's ok. We're gonna get you through this. C'mon."

He put his hands on both Randy's shoulders. Those same hands that had just brought a bit of pain and focus to the situation were now bringing some reassurance and support.

"C'mere, Champ." He embraced Randy tightly. Watch somebody come in and think that they're gay. Hey. There's a GLAAD alliance. Fuck you.


	5. Chapter 5

**Published September 2011; This didn't come from the public Beyond The Mat roleplay website. This came from elsewhere; Randy's character with another writer's OC diva character were in a long-term relationship. This relationship's beginning can be found in our story "Ladies, Do Not Let RKO Buy You Anything". It ended badly, though. Here's how it went down.**

* * *

><p>Breaking is never easy. It wasn't easy the first time Hunter had allowed it, and it was probably less easy now.<p>

Randy was older now.

Had been given the time to sort and straighten his shit out.

Yet for every step forward, there were 2 steps back.

"It's not ever gonna get any better," he said, completely losing his shit. "It does, then it gets all fucked up again."

Randy had been through a lot of women. Not as many as Hunter, most likely, simply because of the change of climate of the business. The 90s were a much crazier time. But he still had more than his fair share, and his problems always seemed to stem from unloading those problems onto some of the women.

The ones he'd chosen to love.

The ones he couldn't give a shit about had the good stories about him.

The ones he did love, including one who he gave his name, had horror stories that would probably all be shared publicly someday.

Did he LIKE being this way? NO. Sure, it felt good sometimes to not carry the weight of the world on his own shoulder. To have a female partner carrying some of the load, like how Sam used to run the house, that had felt good. It felt traditional. Appropriate. And how did Randy thank her? By screwing everything he could get his hands on. By verbally and emotionally abusing her. Breaking her. Having her birth 2 of his kids and then chase her away.

Eve had gotten lucky, actually. Because Randy at least was providing something for her, and he'd known himself well enough to stop before he'd put his hands on her. The overwhelming warning signs that he was going to had screamed in his head like sirens. He realized that any woman who loved him would end up being resented in some way, shape or form, because this perfect ideal that exists in his head, ONLY exists in his head.

That perfect ideal can suck the chrome off a muffler, so to speak, by providing the best blowjob. Her cunt is as tight as the glove OJ tried to put on and failed in front of the jury. The house is spotless, she always looks as if she came out of a salon, always smiling, always cheerful. Kids are always kept perfectly, dog always smells freshly bathed. Always something on the stove, even though he'll more than likely not eat it, always just a tone of...happiness. And mentally giving him a run enough for his money..be it informing him of current events he barely pays attention to on the headlines that run on his phone, because he doesn't sit and read the paper like Cowboy did in the mornings he was home..just tell him what's going on in the world around him sometimes since he barely has a chance to look up. Talk to him, but not too much. Like, don't complain. Know enough about his world, but not to the point where you're getting injured, too. Love him enough to make him not want to drink. Or use any substances that'll get him his 3rd strike with the company and fired.

Yet he knows that's impossible.

Yet he can't let it go.

He was practically fucking sobbing by the time Hunter led him to the bench. He was 3 inches taller than Hunter, but that didn't matter since Hunter's muscle mass was more than Randy's. He'd guided Randy with ease to the bench, to sit and get himself together.

"I'm sorry," was what he'd gotten out.

Sorry for being a fuckup.

Sorry for pulling Hunter away from the reason he was even in Tampa. They'd had almost an hour and the workout had been minimal. Hunter hadn't even gotten a spot on the weight bench.

Sorry for looking worse in Hunter's eyes. Because Hunter's opinion meant a lot. Fuck the company. He meant man to man.

Slowly, he was starting to go more still, forearms on thighs as he sat, and his breathing started to regulate. Emotions were going back in check. Not to the total numbness, but enough to keep it together, enough to function.

* * *

><p>Hunter pretty much hovered over Randy again. Instead of as a spotter, he was more of a mother hen at the moment. The hand was reassuringly on Randy's shoulder and should anybody walk in, Hunter's body was positioned so any view of Randy would be blocked and concealed.<p>

Fortunately, nobody came in and could say they witnessed anything or heard anything. While it might've felt to Randy to be a long time in collecting himself, it hadn't been that long at all.

"I'm drivin' you home. I'll walk you in, I'll help you start this, but you've gotta finish it..and yes, Randy, you've got to see the doctor. Not for me. Not for the company. For yourself. For your kids." He didn't say for anyone else, because he knew Randy's heart, first and foremost, were those kids, as any actually loving father's heart would be.

He had Randy go wash his face, and afterward, walked out with him. Hunter had called the driver as Randy smoked a cigarette, and by the time the cigarette was stubbed out, the car service had returned.

Hunter gave Randy's address and within 20 minutes, they were driven to the part of the driveway closest to the front of the house. Hunter had the car remain there as he walked Randy inside.


End file.
